Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1887-07-21
SET IN DIAMONDS.
by Charlotte n. Braeme
CHAPTER XXvII.-CoNrINUEp.

Then her mood changed; the shadow
Of sadness passed from her eyes, a
smile rippled over the beautiful lips.
Papa" she said, "what will the
MarchIoness of Hottie say? win she be
pleased or angry with me? viii she be
proud OF me, or angry that the duke
did not choose pretty Dosia, the young
est daughter?"
''ohe will be pleased enough, Ethel"
said Lord Stair.
That same week every preparation
was made for the marriage. 1t was to
take place in the church at Clitfe, the
grand oil Norman church where the
IA ally vault of the Stairs lay. The
duke wished it to be so, and Ethel pre-
ferred to be married from her beautiful
old home.
The marriage OF so important per-
sonage as the Duke of Meath excited
great remark and much comment. The
society journals from week to week
gave piquant little paragraphs. The
number OF ride-maids, the costly
wedding presents, the jewels lavished
by the bridegroom upon the bride; the
thousand and one little details of SO
grand ceremony were eagerly dis
cussed. The bride herself was the
heiress OF large fortune; the marriage
itself was pronounced 10 be very
suitable one, although one or two
dowager duchesses did think the duke
might have done better.
AS for the wedding itself, no cere-
mony was ever grander or more beau
tlful. The blush of dawn is not more
lovely than Ethel in her bridal dress,
with diamonds worth kings ransom,
the Meath diamonds famous in history;
the church filled with sweet summer
flowers; the birds singing in the trees;
a brilliant magnificent crowd Of guests,
wedding never to be forgotten. There
was one remark made by every lady
present:
mo bridegroom had ever been seen
80 fond or so proud OF his bride"
All the details of the magn ificent
ceremony were told by the journals and
papers, and over one of these woman
wept most bitter tears; woman who,
passing a shop where illustrated papers
were sold, saw picture Of the grand
old Norman church at Cliffe. She went
In and bought it; she went to a quiet
part of the road and opened it with a
trembling hand. The Duke of Meath
wasa very Important person, and every
thing concerning his marriage was a
matter or vital Importance. There was
a teautiful view of Oakcliffe Towers,
the seat of the brides father; there was
no glimpse of the Herons' Pool in it,
but the grandeur of the oak trees could
be seen. The woman who looked at
this with weeping eyes fingered long
over that page. There was a beauti-
fully written description ofthe wedding,
and as was, perhaps natural, there was
more said of the bride than of the
bridegroom. His rank and position
were perhaps too we'll known to require
any comment.
The bride, 50 said the paper, was the
only grandchild of the great composer,
Cyril N airne. The death Of her
mother, Lady Stair, was lightly touched
upon, but few as the words were, the
woman fingered over them in passion
of tears.
Then the paper went on to say that
the young duke and duchess were going
to the dukes chateau in the south Of
France for the honey after which
they were to reside at Meath Castle.
The duke preferred living amongst his
own people, where he was carrying or
great work. AS she read sue bent
Such passion of tears came oveI
her.
Il thought l was stronger" she said
shut, oh! great and merciful Heaven
give to me my hearts desire! My
hearts desire!" she repeated with Q
passionate cry-a passionate wringing
Of her hands, gesture of unutterable
despair, Then she folded up the paper
and went on her way.
She stopped with cry of pain. II
was as though the very heart-string'
were drawn in her breast.
IL must" she cried, II must risk It,
i must do it, come what may"
She went back to the shop and asked
IL they could tell her in what county
Meath Castle was.
They told her il was in the green and
fertile county of Hampshire, and that Il
stood near the town of Clavering.
She asked with wistful eyes wha
Clavering was like, and they told her
She left the shop and stood once more
In the high-road. Then again she
wrung her hands with passionate cry
and the words that seemed to leave hel
lips and p cree the blue skies were
these: IL have suffered greatly, oh
mercitul Heaven! give me my hearts